


new york soul

by nostalilia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Depressed Peter Parker, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, let peter be happy, spiderson, tony and pepper love their spiderson sm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15595578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalilia/pseuds/nostalilia
Summary: After a tragic accident, Peter finds himself seeking help from his idol, Tony Stark.ORThe one in which Peter learns he can find comfort in those around him, and Tony learns how to be the father he never had.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter is on the roof of his building in his Spider-Man suit eating a sandwich when he hears the crash. Squealing tires, a scream, and the drawn out blare of a car horn as metal on metal collide.

Peter jumps, scrambles to his feet and peers over the edge of the building. A blue Cadillac and a yellow VW Bug, both smoking from the hood. The Bug has rolled on it's side, smashed in the front, almost flattened. The Cadillac has plowed into the Bug, its front crushed and pushed into the other's windshield.

Peter stares for a moment, unable to process what has happened in just a matter of seconds, and then the realization hits him.

Aunt May drives a yellow Bug.

"Shit," Peter wheezes, his breath deserting him. "Shit!" He drops his sandwich and leaps from the roof, pulling his mask haphazardly over his face as he swings himself down to the ground.

There are already a few bystanders on the sidewalk, watching. A woman with a toddler on her hip is on the phone with the police. Traffic is already piling up in both directions, and more than a few people are shouting, but they are afraid to get close to try and help.

Peter hits the sidewalk hard and darts to the smoking cars. Someone shouts, "The Spider-Man is here to help," and people cheer, but Peter just stumbles and trips his way to the Bug, his legs threatening to give way. He is shaking, hard.

She'd only bought it a few weeks ago.

"May!" he wails, sinking to the ground. The glass of the sunroof is already shattered, and he kicks at it to fall away. It does, and he reaches through with shaking arms to find his aunt.

She is still buckled in her seat, head thrown back, bleeding from her temple. Peter is crying and his hands are shaking as he struggles to get the seatbelt undone so he can pull her to safety.

"Peter," Karen says in his ear. "This is unsafe. Get away from the car."

"Shut up, Karen," Peter snaps, but his voice quivers. He manages to unbuckle her and drag her out.

He kneels on the shattered glass, his aunt in his lap, and he cries and holds her and tells her to wake up. His mask is wet against his face.

"The other driver, Peter," Karen says matter-of-factly.

Peter glances up, but there are already a couple of bystanders helping the man out of the Cadillac. He is bleeding heavily, arm hanging at an awkward angle, limping, shaken. But he is awake.

"Peter, you need to leave. Something is going to explode sooner or later. You need to get the pedestrians out of the way."

He is barely listening. He has both hands pressed against his aunt's cheeks as he cries, and he tries to shake her awake. "Please, Aunt May. Wake up."

"I'm calling Tony Stark for backup," Karen says coldly, but Peter brushes her off.

There is a shard of glass pressed into her forehead. Her glasses have been shattered, just the frames hanging down from one ear. Her left hand has been crushed, and one leg rests at an odd angle. A pool of blood begins to seep through the fabric of her shirt where a piece of the car has impaled her.

"Please, May, please," Peter whispers. He has one hand pressing against the wound in her abdomen, and the other, shaking, against her cheek.

Her eyes flutter, looking dazed, as she gasps hard. Her eyes roam and find his, but she isn't seeing him, her nephew, she is seeing the Spider-Man.

Karen knows what he is going to do even before he does. "Peter. Think of the consequences. Don't remove it."

But Peter does. He pulls the mask over his head and drops it on the asphalt. 

"Peter," May says softly, her voice barely audible.

"May, I'm here," Peter says through his tears. His lips are salty, and his neck is wet. "I'm here, Aunt May, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."

He hears the murmur of the crowd rise to a dull roar. People are pointing and gossiping. He knows they are taking photos, and he knows by tomorrow the whole world will know his identity.

She smiles faintly, breathing ragged. "Why didn't you tell me you were the Spider-Man?"

Peter wheezes out a laugh, but it catches in his throat and strangles him. "It's okay. I can hear the ambulence. You'll be okay."

He can indeed hear the ambulance, but his hearing is so much more advanced than others, so he knows it is farther away than she may last.

Her eyes are closing.

"You'll be okay," he repeats, desperately. He leans closer and touches her face, and his tears spill over and fall onto her skin. "Stay awake. Please."

She reaches up with her good hand and wipes the tears from his face, the smallest of smiles upon her lips. 

"May, please." He lets out a sob. "They're coming, they're coming, okay? Please just hang on."

And then her smile disappears and her fingers slip from his cheek, and Peter's whole world falls apart.

"May!" Peter screams. "Aunt May, please!"

He presses his face against her motionless chest and screams, soaking her already bloody shirt with his tears.

The ambulance has arrived, paramedics spilling out across the scene, too late. They swarm them, he and May, and they try to pull him away. He fights back at them, begging and pleading and crying to stay with his aunt, but they drag him away as others crouch over her.

He ends up in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around his shoulders, sitting and staring blankly at the scene before him. A paramedic comes over and holds out his mask, which he takes after a long moment. If she is surprised, she doesn't say anything.

He holds the mask, running his thumbs along the fabric. His head rests against the side of the truck, and he watches the firemen and policemen scurry across the scene and shout phrases he doesn't understand.

He'd lost track of May when the paramedics had dragged him away to check him for injuries. He doesn't know what has happened to her. Is she in a different ambulance? Has she already been taken away? The thought brings more tears.

"Hey."

Peter's eyes flick to the source of the voice before he lets them unfocus again and stare at nothing.

Karen has already said she had called him, but he had thought he'd be in his suit. But here he is, the infamous Tony Stark, standing beside him in jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Mind if I sit?" Tony asks.

Peter shifts and shakes his head.

Tony hoists himself up and sits on the ambulance floor beside Peter. He doesn't say anything, just stares ahead. After a moment, he reaches over and places a hand over one of Peter's.

Peter starts to cry again.

Tony sighs. He grabs Peter's shoulder and pulls him into a tight embrace. Peter grasps Tony's sweatshirt in his fists, his face pressed into his shoulder as he sobs.

"It'll be okay," Tony says softly. His hands rub Peter's back, a rhythm that calms him. "Everything'll be okay, kid."

Tony's voice sounds odd, distant. Peter remembers vaguely that Tony's parents had died in a car accident, and he cries harder. Though it isn't his fault, Peter feels awful that he has brought on these memories Tony has seemingly buried.

His tears subside, but he keeps his head against Tony's shoulder, breathing in and out. He wonders again where May is.

He tips his head so he can keep an eye on the scene. He looks for May among the throng of police and paramedics. He doesn't see her.

A paramedic runs by, blood stains on her knees.

"Hey," Peter calls out to her weakly.

She turns, annoyance briefly crossing her face before she realizes who has spoken to her. Her eyes jump uncertainly from Peter, to Tony, and back to Peter. "Yes?"

"Where's my aunt?" he whispers. "The woman in the Bug?"

She shifts her weight. "You're her family?" She sounds surprised.

Peter nods. His cheek is still pressed into Tony's shoulder.

"But you're the Spider-Man."

He nods again.

She glances over her shoulder quickly, and she points to a second ambulance a few yards away. "She's in that one, over there."

Peter sits up. "She is? Is she okay? Can I see her?"

The paramedic bites her lip. In her kindest voice, she says, "Oh, sweetheart."

Peter's heart plummets through his feet.

"They can't wake her up."

Another round of tears blur his vision. He puts his head between his knees and throws up on the concrete. 

"Thank you," Tony says to her quietly, and there are fading footsteps as she walks away.

Peter keeps his face between his shaking knees and cries, hands resting against the back of his head.

"Peter." Tony's voice is sickly sympathetic. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't have anyone left," Peter wails.

It is true. May was his last living family member. He is utterly, utterly alone.

"Why do they always leave me?"

"Peter," Tony says again.

He lifts his head and looks at Tony with teary eyes. "They're all gone, Tony," he whispers. His mouth tastes like puke. "First my parents, then Ben, and now May. I don't have anyone left."

Tony stares, and then he pulls a blubbering Peter into his chest. "You have me, kid. I know it's not ideal, but you have me."

Peter sobs and wraps his arms around Tony's middle and squeezes him hard. He doesn't want to let go. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am currently updating every Monday! and thank u for ur sweet comments and kudos on chapter 1 <3

Peter's phone dies in the early hours of the morning on the way back to his apartment. It's been buzzing, ringing, lighting up nonstop for hours. He checked it once, in the ambulance before Tony came. Hundreds upon hundreds of messages from his peers. He didn't understand for a moment, but then he read a few, and he felt sick.

He was on the news.

He wants to cry again, because nothing is ever going to be the same again, but he doesn't, because Tony is walking him home, and Tony's already seen him too weak.

Peter fumbles with his keys, because his hands won't stop shaking. He looks up at Tony when he finally gets the door open. "Thanks for walking me home, Mr. Stark," he says quietly, and he steps in and tries to shut the door.

Tony stops him, kicking his foot in between the door and the frame. "Hey, wait a minute."

Peter just stares at him. He can feel the bags under his eyes growing heavier by the second.

"Look, kid." Tony sighs. "I just want to hang out with you for a couple days, that's all. Keep you on your feet."

"What?" Peter says, dumbfounded. "Why?"

"I don't like the thought of you alone here. You're a kid, and you've just been through hell." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "Is it alright if I stay?"

Peter can't say anything. He's started crying again, small tears, but they render him speechless. He reaches out, and Tony pulls him into a hug.

"Thank you," he says in a voice that shakes violently.

"It's okay," Tony replies, and his throat is tight. "I'm not just gonna leave you, kid."

Tony sleeps on the couch, and Peter shuts himself in his room. He changes out of his bloodied suit and studies it for a moment before dropping it on his floor. He doesn't know what to do with it, being as ruined as it is. He gets into bed, buries himself under his blankets.

But he can't sleep. The accident is painted on the backs of his eyelids whenever he closes his eyes. It terrifies him, and it's past two A.M. when he shamefully slinks out of his bedroom into the living room where Tony snores with an arm slung across his forehead. 

"Mr. Stark," Peter whispers. He sits on the coffee table and gently prods Tony. "Mr. Stark?"

He wakes, startled. He sees Peter through blurry eyes and pushes himself into a sitting position so Peter can sit beside him. "Hey, kid," he says, rubbing his eyes. "What's up? You okay?"

"I can't sleep," Peter says flatly.

"Why not?"

"I keep seeing her." He whispers it. "And all the blood. And her dying. She died in my arms." There are no tears present this time. He just feels empty and scared.

Tony doesn't seem as if he knows how to respond, so Peter just leans against him. "I'm sorry I ruined your night."

"You didn't ruin anything," Tony assures him, putting an arm around him. "I swear. Nothing that happened tonight is your fault."

Peter sniffs against his shoulder. "I miss her."

"I know, kid."

The worst part is that Peter no longer feels anything. His tears have dried, and he can only sit there and watch her eyes fade in his memory. He feels numb.

"Why didn't you show up in the Iron Man suit?" Peter asks quietly.

Tony sighs, rests his chin on Peter's head. "I was already on my way when Karen called."

"How?"

"It was on the news."

"Oh. Right."

He says it with distaste, and Tony shakes his head.

"I'm so sorry, Pete," Tony says, voice gentle and sincere. "If I could fix it, I would."

"Yeah," Peter says, startled that he had addressed him by his actual name. "I know."

Peter puts his arms around Tony and buries his face in his shoulder. He smells like lemon and gasoline. He smells like comfort.

Peter feels himself begin to tremble, and his face crumples, and Tony hugs him tighter and says, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The funeral is three days later. Tony and Pepper had organized it, as Peter is only fifteen and still stricken. It's short and simple, and Peter has to speak, but no one can understand a thing he says.

Ned finds him as the congregation prepares to walk to the gravesite to bury the casket beside his uncle. 

"Hey, Peter," he says, slowly. As if he doesn't know what to say. "Are... Are you okay? You haven't returned my calls, and, and I'm kind of worried about you."

Peter stares at him blankly. "My aunt just died," Peter says, blunt and emotionless. He regrets saying it when Ned's face falls, but he can't take it back because Pepper comes over and leads him away.

It's drizzling, and mud splatters his pants as he follows the pallbearers with his head down. Tony and Pepper are on either side of him, each with a comforting hand on his back.

He's managed to keep most of his emotions in check until the burial. They ask him to throw a handful of dirt into the grave. He does, but as he watches it fall through his fingers he loses it. He puts his hands to his face and feels the tears on his fingers and stares at the casket in the ground and wails, and Tony pulls him back so they can bury her.

It's in that moment when it really, truly hits him that May is gone. That she is never coming back. He watches the grave fill up with dirt and cries. They are great, heaving sobs muffled by Tony's button-down, and they do not stop.

He will never see her smile again. He will never hear her laugh again. She will never hug him again, she will never dry his tears again. She will never do anything ever again because she is dead and she is never coming back.

It feels like hundreds of people come over afterwards to offer their condolences, and they give Peter those horrible pitying smiles, and it takes everything in his power to attempt a smile back. He doesn't feel like smiling. He wants to go home. 

Too many of his classmates are here, and Peter refuses to talk to them. They start coming up to see him after the older people who knew May and Ben have finished telling him how sorry they are. He doesn't say anything to them, and after the first few, he wanders away towards the grave.

He sinks to his knees beside the freshly disturbed dirt. The rain has stopped, but the earth is still muddy. He pats the damp ground where she lies six feet under. He doesn't realize he is crying until he is.

He doesn't notice Tony beside him until he sits. "Hey, kid. How you holding up?"

Peter just glares at him. 

"Right." Peter watches him read the headstone. He turns back to him. "Listen, Peter. I'm just gonna say it, okay?"

Peter's heart nearly stops. "What?"

"A guy from some orphan foundation called me," Tony begins, and Peter's breath is immediately gone. "They said you don't have any other family members. Is that right?"

Peter nods, and his tears spill over. It had never occured to him that he would be sent away. "They're gonna take me, aren't they?" he sobs. "I'm gonna be put in the system."

"Oh, Jesus, kid," Tony says, panicked. "No, of course not. I would never let that happen. You're going to live with me."

Peter blinks. "What?"

"You can stay in that room I offered you a few months ago, remember?" He's talking fast now, anxious of scaring Peter like that again. "You'll love it at the Compound, I swear. Is that okay?"

"You're serious?"

"Of course I am."

"You're gonna adopt me?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess me and Pepper are."

Peter starts to cry again, but they're tears of relief this time. He throws his arms around Tony and clutches him tight and cries breathless sobs because he isn't going to be shoved into house after house until he's an adult.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," he whispers.

Tony presses his cheek to the top of Peter's head and hugs him back. He sounds like he wears a slight smile when he says, "Kid, we've been over this.

"It's Tony."


	3. Chapter 3

Tony and Pepper spend their time at Peter's apartment for the next week and a half. Sometimes Pepper has to leave for meetings and such, but most of the time they are both around, and Tony hasn't left once.

Peter doesn't complain; he doesn't want to be bothered, and he just wants to stay in his room and sort out his feelings, but he is afraid to be completely alone. He likes to hear the familiar clatter of May's dishes in the sink, the TV as Tony switches channels, the faint sound of Pepper on the phone. He keeps to himself, but he isn't alone.

They leave him be for a few days. He is grateful they understand his situation enough to let him stew by himself. But eventually, he must return to reality.

They sit down with Peter several times to discuss his living situation, a conversation Peter hates, because every time, they remind him that he has to leave his home.

"I don't want to leave," Peter keeps saying, with tears brimming in his eyes. "This is my home. This is all I have left of May."

"I know, Peter," Pepper always responds, reaching out to pat his hand. "I know, but you have to. Tony and I have to go back to our home, and we can't leave you here alone."

Peter pouts and cries and is generally difficult until Moving Day. He does not want to leave his home. He's lived here for most of what he can remember of his life. He was raised here. This was May's home.

Tony and Pepper are exhausted by the time Happy shows up with the movers. They've already packed everything up themselves, so the crew can just haul the items down the stairs and into the truck. Every piece of furniture in Peter's life is destined for the Compound basement, all except his bed and his desk. He doesn't help with the boxes, either. He sits on the floor and watches his home empty as tears fall into his lap.

Pepper finds him in his empty closet in his empty bedroom as the movers are wrapping everything up. He sits with his knees pulled to his chest, crying silently with his eyebrows lowered.

"What are you doing in here?" Pepper asks as she steps into the closet and crouches down beside him. "We're almost ready to go. Do you want to ride with Tony and Happy, or me?"

"I don't want to leave," Peter mumbles into his wearing jeans. He wipes his eyes, sniffs. "This is my home."

"Oh, honey, I know," Pepper says gently. She runs her fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face. "I know. But you'll love the Compound. Avengers at every turn."

She's smiling, so Peter feels bad when he snaps. "I don't care." He swats her hand away. "This is May's home. She wouldn't want me to leave."

Her face falls, and she gives him that pitying expression every adult has given him since the funeral. "She would want what's best for you. And right now, that's coming to live with us."

He hates that expression. He knows she is right, but that doesn't make him feel any better. "I don't want to."

"Peter, please," Pepper sighs. The circles under her eyes have grown darker since dealing with him for as long as she has.

He just sniffs, stares at his knees.

"Tony's trying to help, Peter, he really is," she says tiredly. "He cares about you so much."

"If he cared, he would let me stay," Peter mutters, but he knows its an empty accusation. He knows Tony cares. He knows Tony would never hurt him. He starts to cry again, all shaking shoulders and trembling lips.

"Oh, honey," Pepper says gently, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to her chest. She strokes his hair and kisses his head. "Everything will be okay. I promise."

The gesture, the "honey", the promise is all so May-like that it breaks him. He sobs into her shirt, soaking it thoroughly with his tears and his snot. He misses her so much that it hurts. His chest aches and his heart aches, and it hurts so much.

"I just want her to come back," he sobs, and she rubs his back and nods quietly and lets him get it out. "She wasn't supposed to die. I already bought her a birthday present. She was supposed to come to my graduation. I was gonna tell her about being the Spider-Man."

He cries harder than he's ever had. His chest aches and throbs, and he's sobbing so hard he's nearly screaming. He's breaking, shattering, falling apart and scattering peices of his broken heart across the bedroom floor.

"She was supposed to be here!" he wails, pounding his fist weakly against the floorboards. "She was supposed to watch me grow up! And she can't, because she's gone."

"I know, honey," Pepper says, and he cries and cries until he tires himself out.

They sit on his floor for a long time. Peter sits limp against Pepper, tears still slipping down his nose, but they are silent. She holds him in her arms and sways them gently in rhythm, and it calms him. She reminds him of May.

"I know things are changing, Peter." She rubs her thumb against his cheek. "But maybe it's for the best. Your aunt is with your uncle now. And you still have a family, you know."

"But it's not the same," Peter whispers.

"It's never going to be the same," Pepper says softly. "But you have me, and Tony. And we love you."

"You do?" Peter asks in a trembling voice.

"Of course we do." She kisses his hair again, runs her slender fingers up and down his arm rhythmically.

Her touch has become soothing, and Peter leans into her. He presses his face to her shoulder and closes his eyes as a shuddering sigh escapes his lips. Pepper isn't May, but right here, right now, she feels like her.

His serenity is disturbed when he hears Tony call for him. Pepper pulls him back, smiles encouragingly at him.

Peter rubs his eyes. He's so, incredibly tired.

"Are you ready?" Pepper asks gently.

Peter stares at his lap. Ever so slowly, he gives her a nod.

She stands and extends a hand, and Peter takes it. She pulls him to his shaking feet and moves to let go, but he refuses to drop her hand. Her eyes are kind when she smiles, understanding, and steps out of the closet with Peter in tow.

They walk hand in hand out of his bedroom, down the hall, and through the kitchen to the front door where Tony stands with Happy and the movers. He is signing something when they approach, and he looks up and grins.

"There's my two favorite people," he says, perhaps brighter than necessary.

"Thanks," Happy deadpans, and Tony pushes his shoulder jokingly.

There is no attention drawn to his red eyes, to his tremors, to his fingers clinging to Pepper's like a lifeline, and Peter is grateful. He is content to keep his meltdown between himself and Pepper, and he thinks that she feels the same.

Tony hands the clipboard to one of the movers and turns to Peter. "You ready to go?"

Peter glances up at Pepper, who smiles and squeezes his hand. And as his gaze dances across his bare apartment one last time, he says, "Yeah. I'm ready."


	4. Chapter 4

Peter steps out of his building one last time. It's hard, it's so hard to think that he will never live here again. Perhaps it would be easier if May was leaving with him, but he'll never know. And besides, it's not as if he would be leaving if May wasn't gone.

"I'll take him home," Tony says, holding out his hand to Happy for the keys.

"You're supposed to pick up Steve and Sam at the airport," Pepper says as Happy digs the keys to the R8 out of his jacket pocket.

"You two can pick them up," Tony says cheerfully. Happy tosses him the keys.

"I have a phone call in an hour and a half," Pepper says crisply. "I can't."

Tony glances down at Peter, who has kept his mouth shut and eyes unfocused for the entire conversation. "You want to come pick up Cap and the Falcon with me?"

"No," Peter says bluntly. He doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't want to.

His reply catches Tony offguard. "Okay. That's okay. Pep, come on. Let me take him."

Pepper is silent for a moment, evaluating the situation. "Oh, fine. But Happy has to drive me."

"Why do I always have to drive?" Happy says, pouting.

"See you at home," Tony says, kissing Pepper's cheek.

She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. She leans down to look Peter in the eye. "Make sure Tony doesn't do anything stupid, okay?"

Peter nods.

"Good." She hugs him tightly. "Be safe. I'll see you when I get home."

"Okay," Peter mumbles, and she pulls away.

He stands next to Tony and watches Pepper and Happy climb into the car and drive off.

Tony nudges him cheerfully and picks up May's old suitcase that is shoved to the brim with half of Peter's clothes. "C'mon, kid. We want to beat them home, don't we?"

Peter shrugs and pulls his own suitcase to the car. He opens the trunk and throws it in, and Tony puts May's in a bit more carefully. They climb in the car, and Tony cranks the engine.

Peter pulls his knees up to his chest, leaning against the door. He watches his building through the window, trying to ingrain every detail into his memory. And then Tony pulls out from the curb, and the building — not his building any longer — disappears from view as they round a corner and merge onto the road.

He should be crying. He feels like he's let May down because he isn't crying. But he's run out of tears; his meltdown inside the apartment wiped him out, and he only feels numb now. No sadness, no fear. Only emptiness.

Tony doesn't talk to him for a while, for which Peter is grateful. He wants to just sit in silence and think.

Slowly, the apartment slips from his mind. He doesn't want it to, he wants to cling to it for as long as he can, but he becomes too preoccupied with his near future. Mainly, with the Compound itself.

He hasn't even been to the structure since Tony had offered him a place on the team all those months ago. His recollection of it is vauge, as he had been hit with so many experiences at once that day that he had no time to focus clearly on anything. He doesn't remember how it looks, how it feels. And it's making him anxious.

He should have scouted it out before today, and he's furious that he never did. Granted, when Tony and Pepper had broken the news to him about moving, they did try to offer him another, heavier tour of the Compound, but Peter had been so angry and hurt that he hadn't even wanted to talk to them, much less spend the day with them. He just wanted to stay locked in his room to fume and cry. So they didn't visit, and now Peter is regretting his decision.

He wonders what his room will be like.

He notices Tony glance over at him in the corner of his eye. It doesn't take long for a question to follow.

"Are you excited?" Tony asks, sounding too upbeat. "I know everyone's excited to meet you."

Peter had been prepared to answer the question, but the statement makes him rethink it. "Sure," he says flatly. "I'm excited."

Tony wilts a bit at Peter's less than enthusiastic response, but tries again. "I was thinking we could do Chinese tonight? You know, get the whole team together and have a kind of meet and greet."

"No." He means to add a thanks onto the blunt word, but it gets lost on his tounge.

There's a pause in the conversation. "No what?" Tony says hesitantly.

"No, I don't want to do a stupid 'meet and greet'." Peter knows he's being too harsh, but he's having trouble keeping his sudden anger in check. "You're acting like I'm moving willingly to be close to the Avengers. I'm not. You're making me move."

Tony doesn't speak for a long time after that.

Peter didn't mean to snap, he really didn't. He hates being angry. But he can feel it, like a fire in his chest, and it's such a welcome relief from the sadness and the numbness that he lets it run rampant.

His hands shake as he digs through his backpack and finds his phone. He hasn't turned it on in nearly two weeks. He presses the button, watches the logo pop up, and slouches down in his seat.

The screen clears, he puts in his password, and then he watches the messages flood in.

Nearly a hundred missed calls from Ned, and the number of texts he has recieved — from Ned, Michelle, the team, and anyone who happened to have his number — are three times that. The notifications on his Instagram, his Snapchat, and his Twitter are well into the thousands.

Peter stares at his homescreen for a moment, watches the little numbers beside his apps continue to rise, and then he turns off his phone again.

He places his phone back into his backpack, zips it up carefully, and then kicks it into the door, a horrible, furious scream in his throat. He's angry, and it feels so good to be angry that he clutches the feeling in his fists and resolves to never let go.

Tony has noticed his fit, says nothing, and casually flips on the radio. "What do you want to listen to?"

"I don't care," Peter says gruffly, turning away from him. "You pick."

"Your mistake," Tony says, too cheerfully, and turns it to a 60s channel.

Peter just grunts, tucking himself into his jacket. Tears sting his eyes, but they're tears of anger this time, and Peter is too proud to let them fall.

He wishes he could give whoever recorded him and sent the footage into the news station a peice of his mind. No one in this goddamned city has any respect for anyone. He's done for.

He hasn't gone out in public since the funeral. He doesn't know what will happen when he does, but he knows it will be bad, given the taste he'd had at the funeral, where more than several grievers had mentioned the footage.

He'd never thought of revealing himself before, because he never thought he'd have to. Now it's all he can think about. He isn't prepared, and everyone he knows and doesn't know will be all over him. It's different than any of the Avengers being known; his identity has been secret as long as he's been the Spider-Man, and none of the Avengers ever had a secret identity. Not to mention that he's so incredibly young as compared to the rest of the known enhanced.

And Peter comes to the realization that he is deeply, deeply afraid.

Neither Peter nor Tony speak for the rest of the ride, though Tony does hum to the radio off and on. The moving truck is already half-empty by the time they pull up the driveway. The Parkers didn't own much.

Colonel Rhodes is outside with the movers, seemingly wanting to help but looking very lost. It isn't easy for him to manuver the stairs to the basement. He sees the R8 pull up, and he smiles and makes his way over.

"Hey, man," he says enthusiastically as Tony opens his door and gets out. "It's good to see you."

"You missed me?" Tony says, teasing, and he pulls him into a brief hug.

"Of course not," Rhodey says dismissively. "You back for good?"

"Looks like it," Tony says as Peter climbs out of the car. He snatches up his backpack, throws it on, and slams the door.

Tony looks at him sharply. "Watch the car, kid."

Peter purses his lips.

"You must be Peter," Rhodey says with a bright grin. "Call me Rhodey."

"Okay," Peter says, expressionless. The Colonel's smile bothers him, as if he's forcing it.

"Where's Pepper and Happy?" Rhodey asks, turning back to Tony.

"Picking up Cap and Sam," Tony replies. He makes his way to the trunk and pops it open. "They should be here soon."

Peter joins Tony and drags out his suitcase, dropping it onto the pavement with a heavy thud.

"Want me to help with that, Pete?" Rhodey asks, reaching for the handle of Peter's suitcase.

Something snaps inside him. "I can do it," Peter says harshly, jerking the bag away from him. "Don't call me Pete."

Rhodey actually flinches, and he steps back. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell, Peter?" Tony demands. He drops May's suitcase hard. "That was entirely uncalled for."

"Be careful with that," Peter protests, anxiety clutching at him for a split-second. "It was May's."

Tony only looks half guilty. "Apologize."

Peter glares at Tony. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rhodes."

"It's okay, really." Rhodey looks incredibly uncomfortable.

Tony throws Peter a whithering look and turns back to his friend. "I'm gonna take him inside and show him around. Want to come?"

Rhodey glances briefly at Peter, who watches with a hard expression. "No, that's okay. I'll stay out here and see if I can help with anything."

"Alright." Tony leans closer to whisper, as if Peter doesn't have enhanced hearing. "I'm sorry about the kid. He's had a rough couple of weeks."

Rhodey shakes his head. "It's fine. I get it."

Peter sniffs, drops his gaze as Tony pats Rhodey's shoulder and then turns and motions him inside. Peter follows Tony through the front door, leaving Rhodey on the lawn.

"Why did you do that?" Tony demands once they are inside. He stops and turns around to face Peter. "He was just trying to be nice."

Peter wipes his nose reproachfully. "Sorry."

"Okay, kid. Rule numero uno. You cannot snap at anyone here besides me, okay? They don't know you, and I'm sure they don't want to be on the bad end of your attitude. Okay? I know this is new and it's hard for you, but can you at least try to make a good impression?"

"Yeah," Peter says coldly. "I said sorry."

Tony stares at him for a long moment. Then he sighs, turns back around, and heads down the hall with Peter at his heels.

His new bedroom is considerably larger than his previous one, and this one contains an on-suite bathroom. His furniture is already in place, and it gives the room a kind of familiarity, despite the incredible space.

Peter goes in and glances around as Tony remains in the doorway. He drops his suitcase and backpack beside his dresser, and takes May's from Tony and puts it next to his own.

"Is it okay?" Tony asks hopefully.

Peter sits on his mattress. "Yeah, it's good."

Tony looks relieved. "Good." He shoves his hands in his pockets and grins. "You ready for the tour of your life?"

Peter drops onto his back and stares at the slats supporting the top bunk mattress. "No, thanks. Not right now."

"What?" The smile slips from his face. "Why not?"

"I dunno." Peter kicks off his shoes. "I don't feel like it."

Tony presses his lips together. "Alright. What do you want to do?"

"Can I just be alone right now?" His throat starts to burn in that horrible way that happens when he's about to cry.

"Oh." It's an uncomfortable word. "Sure. Of course. I'll go. I'm sorry."

Peter shakes his head, closes his eyes. "Sorry."

"If you need me, just ask FRIDAY to get me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." He lingers for a moment, but then Peter can hear the sound of the door click closed, and his footsteps head away.

And in the silence of his new, too-spacious bedroom, Peter cries.

Tony comes back a couple hours later to check on him. Peter's sobs had subsided, and he is buried under his blankets, feeling numb once again.

"Hey, kiddo," Tony says gently. "How you holding up?"

Peter doesn't answer. His back is toward the door, so he pretends he's asleep.

"I brought visitors."

Peter sits up fast at that, turning sharply toward the door. Tony looks so anxious leaning against the doorframe, and behind him stand Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.

Peter can physically feel his expression turn sour. "Why?"

Tony startles. "I just thought you would want to meet some people around the Compound."

Peter glares at him. "I don't." His gaze shifts to Captain America and the Falcon, who suddenly look weary themselves.

"Peter," Tony says, voice severe. "We talked about this."

"It's fine if he doesn't want to talk to us, Tony," Steve assures him in a low voice. "We understand."

Tony gives them apologetic smiles, and they walk away, but Tony comes in and shuts the door behind him.

Peter braces himself for another etiquette lesson, but Tony just leans back against his desk with his arms folded, not angry, but relaxed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tony asks quietly.

Peter's gaze rakes him up and down. "Talk about what?"

"Why you don't want to see anyone."

Peter's tense pose fades, and he hunches over and tugs a strand of his hair. "I dunno," he finally says. "It's stupid."

Tony comes over and sits on the mattress beside him. "Your feelings aren't stupid, Pete. I want to make you comfortable."

Peter evaluates the situation. He holds out his hands, and Tony allows him to take his. It makes him feel grounded to hold onto someone.

"It's like." Peter wets his lips, and his hands shake. "Like. They don't care about me."

Concern settles on Tony's face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm... It's like I'm some charity case," Peter says quietly. "I'm just some helpless orphan you took in. Like a freak show or something."

Tony keeps his mouth shut for once and listens, and Peter is grateful. "Like. I know you care. I know Pepper cares. But they don't. They don't even know me. Like... they're only interested in why I'm here, not how I am. You know?"

He's sort of crying now, little messy heaves of tears and snot. "I don't want to talk to them. I just want to talk to May."

"Peter," Tony says softly.

Peter pulls his hands away from Tony's and cries into his fingers. It's been almost two weeks, and he still feels her absence. He still feels alone. He still feels hurt and miserable and broken. He still misses her.

He's been told the feeling will go away, but he doubts it ever will.

A hand rubs his back comfortingly. "I know, kid," Tony sighs. And he does know.

"She was all I had, y'know?" Peter cries. "And— And she's gone.

"And it's like, it's like me being here... It really hit me how real it all is. That she isn't coming back. And—And just seeing everyone here. They just remind me that things are different and May's gone, you know? You know?"

Tony nods, and Peter can see the pain in his eyes.

"And I don't want anyone's pity, either. They're—they're gonna be all nice and whatever and I don't care that they feel bad for me because they really—they really don't. It's like... like hollow sincerity. I'm just making everyone uncomfortable. They don't need to feel like they owe it to me to try and talk to me."

Tony nods, rubbing his back rhythmically. And Peter cries hard because he doesn't think he's making any sense and he misses May and he's tired of those pitying looks everyone gives him all the time and he's tired of stressing about the Spider-Man and he just wants to be normal again but he can't do anything about any of it. He can only sit there and cry and pity himself because he doesn't want anyone else to do it for him.

"I don't want to talk to anyone except you and Pepper and Happy," Peter whispers. "I just—I just don't want to."

"It's okay, Pete," Tony says softly. "We can do that. I just want you to feel comfortable."

Peter nods gratefully, wiping snot from his nose with the back of his hand. He leans on Tony and sobs because he hurts and it's so hard to hold in so much pain for so long. And Tony sits there and comforts him and stays until Peter's tears have dried.


	5. Chapter 5

Midtown had given Peter two weeks absence after the accident. It's been two weeks. It's been over two weeks. They've called Pepper several times to complain that Peter still hasn't come back. Tony answered one of those calls, and he ended up snapping at the secretary. He doesn't answer Pepper's phone anymore.

Peter's been told he needs to go back to school. And he knows he does. But it hurts so much. It hurts and it aches to even think to roll out of bed and get dressed and brush his teeth and eat breakfast and get into one of Tony's less than inconspicuous cars and show up to school with everyone knowing everything about him.

So he stays in bed. He's stayed in bed since he arrived.

Tony doesn't protest. He knows how it feels, and he doesn't want to do anything to upset Peter.

But Pepper does.

"You've got to get out of bed sometime, Peter," she says when she brings him his lunch a week after Moving Day. She picks up his breakfast bowl and inspects his untouched, soggy cereal. "What will you do if I just stop bringing you food?"

But that won't happen, because Pepper cares enough to keep him fed. Decently. It's not like he eats much, anyway.

He wakes early, too. His frequent napping has disturbed his regular sleep schedule, and he wakes up around six or seven every morning. On one such morning, he feels well enough to pull out his phone again.

The number of notifications has climbed since he last turned it on, but he ignores his social media apps and opens his messages. He digs through endless texts from people he hasn't talked to in years and numbers he doesn't know to find Ned's and Michelle's texts. They haven't reached out to him in a couple weeks.

He opens Ned's contact. The picture makes him smile, but then his heart claws at his throat and he takes several breaths before he finally presses the call button.

Ned answers on the second ring. "Peter?"

His voice is so shocked, so hopeful. Peter wants to cry. "Hey, Ned."

"Holy shit," Ned says. "Holy shit, man, I didn't know what happened to you. You haven't answered any of my calls or texts. I was so worried."

"I know, I know," Peter says. His voice is hoarse after not having used it in a while. It doesn't help that he is trying to hold back tears. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"No, it's okay, really. A lot's happened in the last month."

That makes Peter realize how long it's been since he'd talked to his friend. Almost a month. Almost a month of zero contact, only a snapped comment at a funeral. That's it. Ned had had no idea what had happened to him.

"God, I'm so sorry." Peter's voice breaks, and he starts to cry. "I'm so sorry about everything. I didn't mean to ignore you. There's just... being on my phone is just so overwhelming right now."

"Yeah, I checked your Instagram," Ned replies. "You hit twenty thousand the other day."

"Jesus Christ," Peter says through his tears. "Nevermind. I just—I wanted to say I'm sorry for being so—so rude to you at the funeral."

"Oh, my god, Peter," Ned says, exasperated. "You don't need to be sorry about that, I swear. It didn't bother me at all."

"I was so awful," Peter whispers, staring at the wall. "And then I ghosted you. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Ned pauses, and then he says gently, "It's okay, Peter. I promise."

Peter lets out a shuddering breath. "Okay."

They sit in silence for a moment, Peter sniffling.

"Where are you right now?" Peter asks quietly.

"Just got to school. Why, are you coming?"

"No. Not yet. I was just wondering."

"When are you coming back?"

"I don't know yet. I was due back over a week ago."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Okay, well. I should probably go. Someone's gonna—"

There's some scuffling, and then muffled voices, and Peter is worried for a moment, but then another familiar voice comes through the speakers.

"Hi, Peter! It's Michelle."

"Hey." He tears up again. He hasn't heard her voice in so long.

"She stole my phone!" Ned shouts in the background.

Peter can't help but smile.

"How are you?" Michelle asks. The horrible question. But she follows with, "So much has happened since you've been gone. You're all anyone's talking about. Flash's insults toward you have sort of burned out, too. Like, he can't insult Spider-Man, right?"

"Michelle?" Peter interjects.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I never answered your texts. I'm really sorry."

"Oh, god, Peter, it isn't your fault. I don't care. I'm just glad you're like, not dead. After you went silent, everyone sort of freaked out for a couple days."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's crazy here. I wish I could stop hearing your name come out of everyone's mouths."

Peter smiles, forgetting himself for a moment.

"Give me my phone back," Ned's tiny voice says. More scuffling, and his voice is louder when he says, "The hall monitor is coming over, Michelle! I don't want my phone to get taken."

"You'll never be able to talk to me again," Peter says solemnly.

"I would die," Ned says. "I have to go. Sorry to cut you off."

"It's okay."

"You can call me later if you're up for it."

"Sure."

"Bye, Peter!" Michelle shouts in the distance. "We miss you!"

"Bye," Ned says, and the call ends.

Peter stares at the wall, his phone still held up to his ear, and he listens to the sudden silence. He realizes how deafening it is, and wonders how he hadn't gone mad these past few weeks.

"Bye," he whispers to himself, and his eyes fill with tears. God, how he misses them.

He's forgotten how his actions affect others as well. Michelle's words ring in his ears. He's been so shut off for so long everyone thought he was dead. It's a horrible thought. Suddenly, he feels awful for scaring everyone.

Peter's body doesn't want him to get up, but he rolls out of bed anyway and staggers to the bathroom on his dead-asleep legs. He pees, and when he's washing his hands he evaluates himself in the mirror.

His complexion is pale, so pale it's nearly grey, and there are dark circles under his eyes. His skin is breaking out, and his hair is tangled and oily; he hasn't showered in a long time. He stares at himself and sees how sickly he looks as he lets the water run over his hands. He stands there for a long time, and then he shakes himself and shuts off the water and dries his hands and walks out of the bathroom and then, for the first time in weeks, out of the bedroom.

He's wildly confused and is soon lost, and Friday has to help him out and guide him to his destination.

Peter's feet are cold from walking barefoot on the cool tile. It's turned to winter without him realizing.

The door to Tony's lab is open when Peter finally finds it, but something stops him from going inside, so he just leans against the frame and watches.

Tony is with Steve, their backs to the door, going over some blueprints. Steve's stance is as relaxed as Peter has ever seen it, hands in his pockets, leaning back against the desk, and Peter doesn't feel like he's being threatened for once. 

Peter stands there for a long time. Neither of the two men turn around, and eventually Friday has to speak up. "You have a visitor, Mr. Stark."

The pair turn toward the door, and both their faces fall into similar expressions of surprise. Then Tony says, "Peter!" and runs over to him and grabs him in a hug so tight he lifts him off the ground. "Oh my god. I'm so happy to see you!"

"Thanks," Peter says, and Tony sets him down.

"How are you doing?" Tony asks the Dreaded Question, but Peter doesn't flinch away from it this time. He keeps his hand on Peter's arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Peter glances up at Steve, who understands and walks past them, closing the door behind him. 

"Come 'ere," Tony says, leading Peter into the room. They sit at one of the desks scattered around the room. "What's going on?"

Peter nibbles a nail. "I think I want to go back to school now."

"Really?" Tony looks shocked. "You don't have to if you don't think you're ready yet."

"No, I think I am," Peter says quietly. He sits on his hands. "I talked to Ned and Michelle this morning."

"Yeah?" Tony is aware that this is a Big Deal. "What did they say?"

"They miss me. An' I haven't talked to them in forever and I feel bad and I was talking to them and I realized how much I missed them. I want to go back."

"If you're sure." Tony smiles and reaches out and Peter lets him take his hands. "I'm proud of you, kiddo."

Peter stares at his lap, forcing away the tears gathering in his eyes. "Thanks."

"Tony!" The door bursts open, and Pepper runs in the room, frazzled. She's holding a plate of eggs. "Peter's not in his room and I—"

She stops and takes in the scene and realizes that oh my god Peter is willingly out of his room. But she handles it well, composes herself, straightens her shirt as she walks up to the two of them.

"I brought you breakfast," she says matter-of-factly, holding out the plate to Peter.

Peter takes it, eyebrows drawn together, and then Pepper leans down and hugs him tightly. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't need to.

"Thanks," Peter says into her shoulder, and his eyes are wet.

Tony puts his arms around both of them, and they sit there for a long time until Peter has to slip away to shower for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i keep forgetting ao3 doesn’t do italics anymore. sry i haven’t updated i am suffering from writer’s block atm :/


	6. Chapter 6

Peter convinces Tony to take him late. They have to meet with the principal, and Peter doesn't want Tony waltzing in and giving everyone a strong hint as to his new place of residence. Pepper insists on coming as well, her excuse being Tony doesn't know how to handle jack shit without her.

Pepper drives, thank goodness, because that means they travel in her practical Prius instead of one of Tony's flashy convertibles. Peter wants to be as lowkey as possible. He doesn't want things to change too much.

The three of them sit in the office lobby for a nail-biting five minutes — Peter is terrified someone will walk in — and then the secretary points them through the door. She glares at Tony as he goes by, and he gives her a charming smile. She has obviously not forgotten how he had snapped at her over the phone.

Principal Morita looks serious as they step into his office, and he tells them to have a seat in a severe voice, which they do.

"Now Mr. Stark," Morita says, cutting right to the chase. "Mr. Parker was allowed two weeks leave from school, given he kept up with his schoolwork. Tell me why you are bringing him back just now, after nearly four weeks?"

Peter squirms in his chair between Tony and Pepper as the principal's eyes bore into him.

"Mr. Morita," Tony says easily. "I understand Peter was supposed to come back last week, but if you had seen him yourself a week ago, you would see that he wasn't ready quite yet. We were—"

"Mr. Stark," Morita snaps. "Perhaps this is new to you, but we don't tolerate this kind of behavior in this school."

Tony looks at a loss for words. Pepper sighs and offers a hand. "Pepper Potts, sir," she says.

The principal shakes her hand tentitively. "Yes, ma'am."

"A pleasure to meet you," she says graciously. "I just want to apologize on behalf of all three of us and say that we are truly sorry we have ignored your rules. I know how important they are. But let me be frank.

"Peter's been through hell. He's suffered a lot of loss in his life, but this time he didn't have anyone to turn to except us. It affected him hard, so you'll have to forgive him for not bouncing back until now. It takes time for these kinds of wounds to heal. You understand, right?"

Peter kicks his feet and sniffs. He isn't sure he likes everyone talking about him as if he isn't here.

Morita presses his lips together. "I don't know."

"Look," Pepper says, putting a hand on Peter's arm. "Peter's a good kid. He kept up with all his work, even the stuff from last week. He's a good student and he works hard. It isn't fair to punish him for mourning."

The principal looks at her, his gaze sliding down her arm to Peter. He looks him up and down, and Peter bites his lip and stares anxiously at him. He never considered not being allowed back in the school.

Morita looks down at the files spread across his desk. "He does have nearly a 4.0," he muses, almost to himself. "An excellent record, too. I don't know."

He looks back up at Peter. "Do you understand the situation, Mr. Parker?"

"Yes sir," Peter says, voice shaking just slightly. "It won't happen again. I'll be a perfect student."

"That's what you said a few months ago," Morita says in a level voice, "when I nearly had to expell you for skipping class and disappearing from a decathelon meet."

Peter feels Tony's and Pepper's eyes bore into him. He had happily neglected to tell them that fact about himself. Sure, Tony knew he'd skipped the meet, but he had never mentioned almost being expelled. Peter knows they're going to have a talk later.

"I mean it this time," Peter says in a small voice. "Please, Mr. Morita. I want to stay here."

Morita watches him for a moment. "Alright," he says slowly. "I suppose I can't punish you for this."

Peter breathes a sigh of relief, and Pepper squeezes his arm comfortingly. "Thank you, sir."

"Moving on," the principal says, closing one file and opening another. "You two are now his legal guardians?"

"Yes sir," Tony says quickly. "We brought our records."

Morita nods. "I just need you to sign a few things and put down Mr. Parker's new contact and information list. And Mr. Parker, you should head on to class now."

"Oh," Peter says. He wipes his nose. "I don't need to stay?"

"No, you're free to go."

"Okay," Peter says quietly. He gets to his feet and picks up his backpack. Pepper and Tony both give him a tiny hug for good luck, and then he has to leave the office and go to his first class in nearly a month.

The bell should ring any minute, but Peter still trods on to his class anyway. After the fiasco in the office, he doesn't want to do anything to get on the principal's bad side, even if he would only be skipping a few minutes of class.

Peter knocks on the door and looks at his shoes and waits for it to open. His teacher opens it a moment later, and, in an almost shocked voice, says, "Peter!"

Peter gives her a thin smile. She ushers him inside, and he has to stand at the front of the class with everyone's eyes on him as she asks him the Dreaded Question.

"Fine," Peter says flatly. It's so tiring, answering it. As if things will have changed.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," she says with a too-wide smile. "And we're glad you've finally returned! We missed you. Right, class?"

Most of the class mumbles half-heartedly.

Peter shifts his feet and waits to be allowed to sit, but the bell rings, and he doesn't have to. He digs out his stack of homework from his backpack and hands his teacher her assignments as the room shifts and his peers shove out the door.

"Oh, you shouldn't have worried too much about this," she says with a sympathetic smile. "I just have to assign it, or I'll get in trouble."

"Oh," Peter says. He stares at her for a long moment, and his hands shake as he turns and follows his classmates out into the hall.

In every single class, he is forced to suffer a confrontation like that. His teachers stand him in the front of the room and ask him the Dreaded Question and pretend not to notice how upset he is.

His peers start to talk to him, too. They stay away from his feelings and jump right into questions about being the Spider-Man. Several ask why he hasn't been out lately, and he calmly tells them, "My aunt died." It shuts them up.

Peter finds Ned and Michelle at lunch, and they hug him and tell him all the gossip he's missed. Ned brought cookies for the occassion, and they split the container between the three of them. It's the first normal conversation he's had all day; no mention of Spider-Man, no mention of his feelings. Until the end of the period.

"Hey, where are you living now?" Ned asks as he breaks a cookie into small peices.

It's a casual question, not prying or anything, but Peter's hands still start sweating. "With Mr. Stark," Peter says quietly.

Michelle stops chewing. "Are you kidding?"

"No," Peter insists. "Keep your voice down. I don't want everyone to know."

"Holy shit, dude," Ned says. "That's awesome. When do we get to visit?"

"Ha ha," Peter says flatly.

Michelle cuts in. "Wait, why did you not go live with your family or something?"

Peter and Ned go kind of quiet.

"I don't really, um. I don't have any family left," Peter says in a small voice. "May was it."

"Oh," Michelle says softly. "I'm sorry, Peter."

"It's okay," Peter sniffs. "You didn't know. I'm just glad I had someone who would actually take me in, you know? I almost got put in the system."

"So Tony Stark like, adopted you?" Ned asks, incredulous.

"Be quiet," Peter hisses. "Yeah."

"Oh my god." Ned looks entirely starstruck. "So the Avengers are basically your family."

"No way," Michelle says. "What are they like?"

Peter looks down. "I dunno. I haven't really talked to any of them."

"Why not?" Ned and Michelle demand at the same time.

"I don't know." Peter kicks his legs under the table. "I don't want to right now."

"You don't want to talk to the Avengers?" Ned sounds shocked.

"You wouldn't understand." He hears his voice harden, and he tries to push down his annoyance. "A lot's happened."

"But you've been there a month," Michelle says, cocking her head. "You haven't had one conversation?"

"No, and I don't want to," Peter snaps. "Shut up about it."

Michelle goes quiet, and Ned softly says, "Sorry."

Peter rubs his eyes. "Sorry."

"'S'not your fault," Ned says to the table.

They sit in silence for the rest of lunch.

The rest of the day is uneventful. His teachers marvel at his return, his peers pester him with questions regarding his superpower. In one class, the questions start while he's in the front of the class, and he has to painfully tell his entire class about the spider bite.

It's a relief to hear the final bell ring. Peter grabs Ned by the sleeve, and they haul ass outside the front of the school before the afternoon announcements are done to get a moment of peace.

"Let go of me, now," Ned says patiently. He's already forgotten Peter's snap at lunch. So Ned.

Peter lets go of him. "Sorry. I'm sorry about lunch."

"It's chill, dude. I don't care." Ned smiles. He's a good friend, quick to forgive and forget.

"I mean it," Peter says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I haven't been a great friend since... you know."

"Peter, listen," Ned says seriously, touching his arm. "Maybe I don't know exactly what you're going through, but I can tell how hard it's been on you. And I'm really sorry all this has happened. It's not your fault you were mourning."

His words are similar to Pepper's this morning, and Peter's eyes well up, and he hugs Ned tightly. "I love you."

Ned pats his back. "Love you, too, man."

Peter pulls back, wipes his eyes. "This sucks."

"Yeah," Ned agrees. "Also, if you ever need help, like, talking to Captain America or something, you can call me. I can be your icebreaker."

Peter laughs, and his shoulders feel lighter.

His brief moment of joy is soon ruined. The rest of the student body has begun to spill from the front doors. Their sights lock on Peter, and he and Ned are surrounded. Peter fends of prying questions and desperate autographs, and suddenly he feels so drained from it all. It's only been a day. He doesn't know how he's going to last the rest of his high school career.

Peter had been hoping Tony would be early in picking him up, but that is not the case. The patio empties, classmates drawn away by cars picking them up, including Ned, and Peter finds himself sitting against the brick wall of the building nearly an hour after school lets out. There's only a few kids left, one or two with their gazes on him, but they keep to themselves. Peter finds he can finally breathe again.

He pulls out his phone and dials Tony. The man answers on the fifth ring. "Hey, kid."

"Where are you?" Peter demands. "You were supposed to pick me up an hour ago."

"Oh, shit. I thought Pepper was picking you up."

"No, you are. You told me this morning."

"Oh, Jesus, kid, I totally blanked. Uh, I'm kind of on a call right now—"

"Who cares? You were supposed to pick me up." Peter feels like crying. "Come get me."

"Peter, I can't." Tony fumbles with something on his end. "Hold on. Let me call Pep."

He goes quiet for a few minutes, long enough for Peter to feel his heart compress and tears drip down his face. He buries his head in his knees, and he wants to hang up, but he can't.

"Okay," Tony says loudly, stressed. "Pepper won't answer her phone. I think she's in a meeting downtown right now."

Peter keeps his mouth shut. He listens to Tony stammer and watches as another kid climbs in a car. There's three of them left.

"Okay, wait."

More shuffling, a faint shout. Peter wipes his eyes, but the tears keep coming.

"Okay, good news." Peter's hopes get too high and he waits for Tony to say he's ditching his call and picking his kid up instead. But he doesn't. "Steve's going to pick you up."

Peter feels all his emotions about Tony forgetting about him swell up into one big ball of fear. "No."

"Pete, it's all I can do. I'm sorry." He doesn't sound remotely sorry. "He's leaving now in my silver convertible. Please be nice to him."

He wants to throw a fit, but he doesn't, because there are still students near him. "No."

Tony sighs. "I'll make it up to you."

"No."

"I have to get back to my meeting, okay? I'm sorry. I love you."

Peter says nothing, because to say something would be letting loose all his fear and anger and emotion in one fell swoop. So he says nothing.

"Kid?" Tony says hesitantly.

Peter feels his tears spill over again.

Tony hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some revisions: i did away with chapter titles because it looked messy, but the story is still the same. i added some new tags.
> 
> i don’t really know how i feel about this chapter. i’ve been struggling with mad writer’s block lately. sorry about the shitty update schedule.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter sits against the brick and watches two more cars pull up and watches the remaining students climb into them as silent tears run into the knees of his jeans. He is alone.

A teacher peeks out of the front doors. "Do you have a ride, Mr. Parker?"

He doesn't know her, but of course she would know him. "Yes."

"Okay. Have a good day."

"Yeah."

The sky has taken on an orange tint by the time Steve pulls up in Tony's car. Peter slowly gets to his feet, heaves his backpack on his shoulder, and trudges to the car.

"Hi, Peter," Steve says as Peter opens the door. But Peter just presses his lips together and drops his backpack onto the floorboard as he climbs in, eyes on his lap.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks. It's a timid voice, unsure of his boundaries. He's noticed Peter's tear streaked cheeks.

"I'm fine," Peter says shortly, and he turns his body away from Steve and rests his head on the door.

Steve says nothing, just puts the car in drive and steps on the gas. They roll down the hill, merge into traffic, and they are finally on their way home.

Somewhere between school and the interstate, Peter has begun to cry. A full sob, complete with shaking shoulders and trembling hands and a flood of unceasing tears. It's a horrible feeling, being forgotten. He never thought Tony would let it happen, but here he is, sobbing in a convertible with Captain America at the wheel.

Steve keeps quiet, and for once Peter actually wants him to talk to him, to distract him, to let him know he cares, even though Peter doesn't.

They are halfway home when Peter's cries putter out. He sits with his head against the window, exhausted and breathing hard, and he watches the traffic fly by and wishes he could go home to May. She would hold him and comfort him and dry his tears and tell him she loves him. But she won't, because she is dead.

"You okay?" Steve asks again, quietly and gently.

Peter peers at him from the corner of his eye. The man's eyes are on the road, but his expression is one of concern.

Peter considers. "No," he says finally, and the word results in another flood of tears.

Steve looks surprised at a genuine answer, but he asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter wipes his nose dubiously. He isn't sure. And he wants to cry again, because he's never been terribly nice to Steve, yet the man is concerned for him. Peter presses his fingers to his eyes.

Steve has taken Peter's silence as a no, so he seems startled when Peter says in a small, small voice, "How could he forget me?"

"Oh..." It's a sympathetic noise. Steve takes his eyes from the road to look at Peter fully, and Peter looks back with another round of tears pooling in his eyes. He turns back to the road. "I'm sure he didn't mean to."

"But I asked him this morning," Peter says quietly. "I asked if he was picking me up, and he said yes. And he came to school with me this morning. He signed papers with Pepper. How could he forget?"

"Tony is," Steve says slowly, wetting his lips, "not the greatest at remembering things. He didn't mean it."

"But he said he was proud of me. For going back to school. Two days ago." He's crying again, weakly. "He knew where I was. He saw me here this morning. He told me this morning he would pick me up."

Steve can only sigh. "I don't know. I don't know how he forgot. But it wasn't intentional. I promise."

Peter's had enough. He turns away again and tucks himself against the door and watches the world go by.

They are almost to the Compound when Peter softly says, "Thank you for getting me."

"My pleasure," Steve replies, ever the gentleman. But he offers Peter a smile, which Peter tearfully returns.

Steve pulls the car into the garage, where, to Peter's dismay, Tony is working on one of his other cars. Peter watches him look up and smile, and he stands, wiping his hands on the seat of his pants as Peter climbs out of the car.

"Hey, kid," Tony says with a welcome grin. "How was—"

Peter doesn't let him finish. He ducks his head and walks out of the garage into the house. Steve stays behind.

He stops by the kitchen on his way to his room. Wanda is cooking and says hi to him as he opens the fridge, but he doesn't acknowledge her and pulls out a Coke and stalks up to his room.

He's on the top bunk of his bed with his computer in his lap when someone knocks on the door. Peter doesn't say anything, just swallows the rest of his soda, but the door opens anyway, and Tony steps in.

"Hi," he says, but Peter doesn't reciprocate. He ignores Tony and continues to type as if he was never interrupted. Tony sits at his desk chair, looks up at him. "I want to talk to you, Pete."

"No, thank you," Peter says, sinking farther down against the wall, slouching so far that his laptop is above him now. "I want to be alone."

"Too bad," Tony says cheerfully.

Peter glares at his screen. "Leave me alone."

"I know you're mad," Tony soldiers on. "And I'm really, really sorry I didn't pick you up. I got tied up."

"You're not sorry," Peter says with a sniff, and his eyes begin to water. "You don't care."

"Pete, c'mon," Tony says, a hint of desperation on the edge of his voice. "Come down and talk to me."

"No," Peter says, and his throat tightens.

"Peter."

"Leave me alone." He snaps the last word. "You don't care. If you did, I would have been the first one out of that parking lot. If you cared even in the slightest, you would have dropped your meeting to get me and actually apologize for real. You don't care."

Tony looks hurt, and his voice shakes when he says, "Peter, I'm trying."

"Try harder!" Peter nearly shouts. He finally rips his eyes from his laptop and glares at Tony. "May would care. May would have picked me up. Even though I always took the bus, if I asked, she would pick me up because she cared about me."

"I'm not May—"

"No shit," Peter snaps. "I wish you were. I wish I was at home with May right now instead of here with your selfish ass, but I'm not, and it's your fault."

Tony's eyebrows draw together. "How is it my fault?" He says it quietly.

"If you never started helping out and shoving money in our hands, she would never have bought that car." Peter's throat tightens and his eyes fill with tears, but he presses on, voice angry and hot and shaking. "We were fine how we were. She would still be here if she didn't buy that car."

"Peter," Tony says, and his breath is hollow. "It was the other driver's fault, not May's."

"It was your fault," Peter says harshly, and finally he starts to cry. "It's your fault she isn't here!"

Peter sobs and presses his palms into his eyes as tears flood his cheeks. He hears the door click shut; Tony has silently exited the room. Peter rolls over, throwing his computer from his lap, and presses his face into his pillow and screams and beats his fist against the mattress. He's furious and miserable and he just wants the world to stop turning for once.


End file.
